Grapes Upside Down

33. Agua con Gas

~Madisen~

"Me tengo que ir." Ignacio laments for the hundredth time that he has to leave, as the first hint of sunlight splashes through the closed blinds of the Mendez kitchen.

"Ya es día." I giggle, pulling him in for a final hug, a fresh waft of his cologne knocking me senseless even though I've been swimming in it all night.

"I have to go to work," he whispers, peeling my arms off his body.

"How can you go to work?" I gasp, suddenly mortified at the fact that we have been making out all night at the expense of his rest. "You haven't slept!"

"I'll be fine. How can I sleep when I could be doing this with you instead?"

Standing in between the stove and refrigerator, we have touched each other everywhere and said everything to each other. I can't remember what we've discussed, but I'm completely addicted to this man and don't want to let him out of my sight. When I went to the bathroom a half hour ago, I discovered my lips were gleaming red and swollen like bursting, rain-washed cherries.

"Kick me out," he begs, clasping his hands around mine and swinging my arms.

When we finally make it to the front door, still clinging onto one another, he scoops me back into his embrace.

"I'll pick you up tonight after work."

"Ignacio, you need to sleep! I don't think you've slept since you met me." His eyes are bloodshot, small bags forming in his previously flawless skin. I notice a small scar next to his right eye while analyzing his face.

"I'll sleep when you go back to the United States."

That dose of reality punctures my abdomen like a dozen tiny razor blades.

The wounds are plastered closed with numbing putty in an instant when he adds in a low hum: "Or you could take me with you."

His dark eyes flash with intense realness as we lock into each other's gaze and tumble into fantasy land together.

Oh my God, he's serious.

"We have plenty of time to talk about that still." Ignacio's voice scratches into my numb brain, which is half-asleep and floating in delirium, and I don't know if the stinging sensation of splinters left by his words is terror or full-blown, all-in love.

Our bodies are still pasted together as he twists the door handle and I push him across the threshold, directly into Noah, who is bounding up the porch steps with his suitcase at 6:00am, a day early.

"Mmph! What the..."

"¡Puta la wea!"

There's a chorus of grunts and expletives as the two guys ricochet off one another in confusion, a bottle of bubbly water flying out of Noah's hand and glugging onto the cement.

Noah is all bundled up, a boyish ball under layers of jackets, his wavy black hair hidden under a beanie, cheeks rosy red as the tangible fury steaming from his ears vaporizes in the chill of the dawn.

Ignacio moves in on him, spewing a rapid-fire interrogation.

"Madisen!" Noah bellows my name, snapping me out of paralysis. I realize I've not yet mentioned to Ignacio that I have a roommate living with me at the Mendezes'.

"Ignacio!" I leap in front of him, where he's narrowing the space between himself and Noah, hackles raised in a threatening posture. "Este es Noah. Vive conmigo."

There's a thick silence as everyone's nervous system settles from the previous ten seconds of chaos.

Noah rips off his hat, freeing his cute, messy curls. Ignacio's got protective hands on my arms from behind as I stare at Noah, taking note of the furious breaths he's laboring to suck in.